Becoming Wicked
by EnjolrasLovedEponine
Summary: Eponine and Enjolras take the places of Elphaba and Fiyero in the musical Wicked during the scene of "No Good Deed". In a desperate attempt to save Enjolras' life Eponine struggles to use magic from her book of spells.


_The world cracked and boomed and spat out sparks and smoke. Death came through the screams of the students of the failed rebellion, and the National Guard tore down the barricade. From the second floor of the Café Musian, Enjolras and Eponine stood together waiting for their imminent demise. Enjolras, still clasping the red flag, turned from the window to stare at her._

"_Eponine you must get out of here."  
"You can't expect me to leave." She replied quickly. Her voice did not shake or quiver with fear but was instead calm and collected._

_In two strides he was in front of her, his hands grasping her shoulders, "You must. They cannot know you are here. They will kill you without hesitation."_

"_I'm not leaving you." She replied quickly._

"_You have to. You're the only one that can save me."_

She had disappeared just as Enjolras told her. She, reluctantly, fled the café and into the sewers. From there she vanished all together from Paris back to Montfermeil to the abandoned inn that was once her home. She paced about the empty master bedroom on the second floor, pulling at the roots of her hair in frustration and worry. Enjolras had told her to leave, because she could save him. How could she save him? He was already dead! He must be! He was the leader of the rebellion, wanted nothing more than to bring down all that was unjust, which was treason against the government. Treason warranted death. So the National Guard must have shot him as soon as they saw him. The National Guard killed her lover. Didn't they?

Her pacing slowed until she stopped walking entirely to touch her lips with her fingertips. The last kiss he had given her was on that day, the fall of the barricade. He kissed her goodbye, a quick but tender kiss, and she could feel his eyes follow her as she rushed down the stairs. Tears began to welled in her eyes from the memory, but they did not fall. Then, from her peripheral vision, she noticed a dim, light blue light that came from behind her. She turned to see her beautiful crystal orb shinning sitting in its stand, and the fog within the crystal spread and dispersed to reveal a scene. Eponine approached it and saw the image of Enjolras and soldiers of the National Guard. Enjolras was tied to a wooden stake and appeared starved and exhausted. A soldier struck his cheek hard with the butt of his musket.

"Enjolras!" Eponine yelled in horror.

No sounds could be heard from the crystal ball, but Eponine could easily, vividly imagine the cracking of his bones, Enjolras' screams of sheer agony. A soldier that appeared to be the captain knelt down beside him, the man's mouth moving, but no words could be heard. He was probably questioning Enjolras for any information regarding Eponine. Enjolras spat in the captain's face, a mixture of blood and spit. The captain wiped his face, anger written across it, said something else, and then stepped back. The soldiers then began to mercilessly beat him, and Eponine quickly went to the wall opposite where the orb stood. She turned over the loose wooden floorboards, revealing a secret compartment that hid a large book. She snatched it out and opened it, flipping through the pages hoping to find the spell she was looking for. She raced back to the crystal ball and in a rush fell onto her knees, tossing the book on the floor in front of her, panting as she did. She quickly glanced up at the orb and saw Enjolras bloody and bruised but still alive.

Her heart pounded in her chest as the adrenaline coursed through her veins like a poison. Turning back to the book she began to chant the words of the spell. Her hands swayed over the book as if to physically extract the magic it held as she struggled to speak the foreign, otherworldly language. As she continued to chant she glanced up at the crystal window, and her eyes widened in shock. All the ball showed her was Enjolras, blood dripping from his hairline down his face and from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were shut. Eponine held her breath and could not tell whether or not he was breathing. Her heart leaped up to her throat, and she could not will herself to breathe. Her face had gone sickly white. Enjolras faded into the fog of the crystal, and the image was gone.

Tears seeped from Eponine's eyes, and she tried to continue with her chant, but she struggled even more so by her discovery. Then in rage and grief she yelled and slammed the book shut. She rose to her feet and paced about the room, her eyes dark and strands of black hair fell in her face.

"I can't read it!" She shouted into the darkness of the inn.

She breathed deeply and growled as her heart pounded against her ribcage threatening to tear her chest apart. Slowly her pacing stopped and tears dripped down her face.

"They took away the only person that ever made me happy," She wept in despair. "They murdered my Apollo!"

Her eyes widened in shock of what she had said, and she felt as if she had just had the wind knocked out of her. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't breathe. _Apollo_, she thought to herself. Memories of her and Enjolras flooded her mind and shattered her heart.

"_I'm a gamine," she muttered to him as they lay in bed together, "No better than the dirt you walk on, a witch."_

_Enjolras stroked her cheek as he held her closer to him. He stared into her eyes, and she could see the love he felt for her, "You know in your heart that isn't true. You're a good person worth more than the king of France. Don't let the world try to convince you otherwise."_

Eponine growled and yelled in rage as she remembered the memory. _The world took you away from me_! She thought to herself as if she was talking to his memory._ The world destroyed the only kindness, happiness, the only love I was able to achieve! _She turned back to the book that was lying on the cold floor. She picked it up and held it to her chest, allowing the strands of her beautiful black hair to fall in her face again.

"So be it," she snarled, "I'm a witch. And all of France shall know me."

The Wicked Witch was born.


End file.
